Maybe I'm A Masochist
by Amiphobic
Summary: You are not that girl. The one who pines after someone who clearly has no interest in her; the one who sits in her car for hours crying to Adele. Yet here you are, watching reruns of Gilmore Girls as Titanium plays endlessly on repeat. Two-shot.
1. Part 1

**Beca's POV**

It doesn't begin until after the ICCA win. You're sure that you finally understand where your place is in the world for the first time ever. The Barden Bellas are champions, you don't feel the need to flee to L.A. to get away from college and your father, and best of all you're with an amazingly wonderful and cute guy who treats you right. If anything, that should be the end of the story.

Yet it doesn't end there. In fact, the next year the Bellas crash and burn at Regionals, you wistfully hover over the "buy" button for a one-way ticket to L.A. more than once, and you find yourself avoiding Jesse more and more for no particular reason. These three things are inexplicably connected although you sure as hell don't think they should be.

While the loss at Regionals is not quite as epic as the upchucking by one Aubrey Posen, it still lands in a category of its own. A bit of stumbling in the choreography and Fat Amy's starting of the domino effect results in the best part of the performance, basically. As a result, you become increasingly withdrawn, spending weeks on end buried in your shared apartment with Chloe, only emerging for classes and occasionally, for Jesse. Understandably your grades and relationship take a big dive, but somehow you can't find it within yourself to actually care.

Surprisingly, things between you and Chloe build easily, things that were "Jesse" this and "Jesse" that morph into "Chloe" and her name chants through your head. The affection you once felt for Jesse was a slow step by step that became stronger as time went on. But Jesus, what you feel for Chloe, you don't even know what it is, but it came out of nowhere and slammed right into you. Now you can only muster up any sort of enthusiasm for mixing the most ridiculous songs and spending time with Chloe, who becomes concerned with your downward spiral.

* * *

"This isn't healthy," Chloe sing-songs for the hundredth time this week, and if she wasn't wearing that teasing smile, you'd be annoyed as fuck. "I'm sure your _boyfriend_ would like to spend some time with you."

"I just want a bit of alone time," you defend yourself, your arms crossed as you sit crisscross in front of the TV lying against her legs that are dangling from the sofa.

"You're with me, though. Not really alone."

"Damn you for always being right then, Ms. Beale," you deadpan and sigh, "I just don't feel up to seeing him right now."

"Okay." Now hopefully that's the end of that. But it hardly is as the redhead pulls on your arm so that you sit on the sofa next to her. "Okay, _Ms. Mitchell_, but when he calls and asks where you are, I'm not lying for you."

It should feel like a fight, it should make you want to collapse, hide yourself and just ignore the other girl. But it only makes you feel like there's something you need to apologize for.

_Damnit, my life is _not _an apology. _"Don't be like that, please. I didn't mean it."

The older girl's eyes meet yours unnervingly, as if she can see everything that's going on in your mind. God, you hope not. The light blue is unreadable as Chloe's grim expression slowly relaxes into a soft smile, "You're unhappy, and I don't like seeing you like this. That's all."

The irritation fades away quickly, and you sigh heavily, your defenses and walls crumbling away. _How does she do that?_ "I'm just scared to be happy for too long."

"Scared?" It should feel probing, invasive even. You try to summon any sort of defensiveness, but it fails you.

What compels you to answer, you're not sure. "Like I don't know how to be happy. I thought that was my lot in life, being unhappy." You've thought this many times over, but now that they're voiced, you feel foolish and naïve. "It's silly, just, never mind."

"No, it's not silly," Chloe pulls you in for a hug from behind, your back cradling into the other girl's embrace. As your heart jumps inside its cage, she whispers in your ear, "It is sad though."

You don't talk after that, just settle in and watch Desperate Housewives (Chloe's pick, obviously) in comfortable silence. And when the phone rings, you expect her to hand it to you with an expecting stare, but instead she switches it off without a word.

The words "thank you" threaten to leave your mouth, but instead you entwine your fingers with hers, hoping she'll understand. She brings your joined hands up to her mouth where her lips barely brush your knuckles, the action bringing tears to your eyes. You blink it away and force down the lump in your throat. You're not even sure what anything is anymore.

* * *

So it shouldn't come as a surprise when an angry Jesse finally meets up with you in your apartment while Chloe is out shopping.

"I called you _five_ times, Beca. Five! You answered an astoundingly low number of times, as in zero."

"Jesse," your tone must betray exactly what you're about to do, because he raises his hand with a choked sound.

"Are you really going to do this?"

"I can't."

"Can't what?" His voice is so desperate and his eyes pleading. Everything about him is candid and clearly there for you to interpret and he's so earnest in his heartbreak that you almost can't bring yourself to say the next words.

"I can't do this anymore," your chest aches with some emotion you can't quite pinpoint, but you can also feel relief spread to your fingertips.

Jesse lets out a shaky exhale as he screws his eyes shut tightly, his hand coming up to massage his forehead. "It's because of Chloe, isn't it?" You're not even surprised; you haven't been hiding it exactly. "Is it useless to ask for a second chance?" His voice is quiet and defeated.

It touches something in you as you reach out to touch his cheek feeling the slight stubble under your fingertips, "God no, Jesse, it's not like that. You don't need to change, you're perfect. Like you're the most perfect boyfriend ever, I just-"

"Are you going to give me the it's-not-you-it's-me spiel? 'Cause that's in basically every movie's break up scene." There's wet streaks dripping down from his eyes now, and you can't bring yourself to realize that he's crying. Because if you've made him cry, then you don't think you can face this. "Can you just tell me the truth? Can you just do me that one favor?"

Maybe you do owe him that much. "Fine, it is you. You're not Chloe." Your voice wavers slightly at the other girl's name, but your eyes pin his calmly. "I can't help it. I just don't want to lie to you anymore."

"Thank you," Jesse chuckles through a wet sob. "Thank you for being honest. Thank you for crushing my heart too, you know."

This is why you didn't want a relationship. You're hopeless at them. You just fuck everything up.

He stands and you think he's walking out, but no, he's just opening the fridge to get a bottle of beer (having an of-age roommate has its perks). It's drained quickly and he's reaching for another one. You'll allow him this too then, although more than anything, you want him out and gone right now. The time ticks by painfully slow, the awkwardness becoming more than you can bear and he's had three and on his fourth before you realize it.

"You're a masochist or something, you know?" Jesse is obviously still hurt and a little bit drunk. His words are jumbling together, not quite making sense. "You just want something you can't have so you can feel the pain of wanting. You like not being happy."

"And you're drunk," the dismissal is immediate as you turn towards the new voice. Chloe stands at the doorway, her arms laden with grocery bags. There's a slight crease in her forehead, but other than that you can't discern her reaction or mood. "It's late Jesse, you better head back before it gets too dark."

"Am I the bad guy now? The obstacle between the two protagonists?" He's not slurring as much anymore but you panic anyway, your hand falls against his chest.

"Come on, Jesse."

He looks at you and his eyes clear for one moment. Then he nods and walks out the door in silence.

"What was he talking about?" She's by your side in an instance, her hand touching your arm in what should be comfort. It's electric, her touch, you feel it coursing along your skin. You know it's your moment now. You know that you should tell her how you feel because this is the best chance you'll ever get.

"We broke up." That's all you can get out. She can't know about how you feel, the friendship you have with her is the only thing that's intact in your life right now.

"Why?"

You want to tell her. You do. But you can't. So instead, you shrug, "It just wasn't fair to him."

Chloe maneuvers the two of you so that your back is against the kitchen counter and she's leaning towards you, her fingers encircling both of your wrists. Your heart stops and your stomach drops as the smell of her shampoo mixed with the cold outside air hits you.

"Was it because of me?"

It completely disarms you. Somehow, she reads you like an open book, although you were sure you were closed the last time you checked. You're not sure how she knows, or how she's able to ask it so calmly, and confidently. You can lie to her, say it's not, say that Jesse just isn't right for you. You can deflect and say it's a lot of things. It doesn't cross your mind to tell her the truth.

"Beca, are you in love with me?"

"No." Your rejection is fast, a knee-jerk reaction. "No, no, no, I'm not."

Chloe looks at you, just simply surveys your expression.

"Yes." You can't breathe, so you're not sure how that's slipped out. Her eyes, her blue eyes, her eyes so blue that they should be illegal have seen into you, and you can't help it. "Yes."

There's a terrible silence that really, just tells you all you need to know.

"I'm sorry," she starts to say, leaning back, but you just can't hear her say it.

"It's not fair, Chloe," your voice is surprisingly even despite the raging emotions rising up inside. "You tear and tear at all my walls until they're down and I have nothing, and I'm just all out in the open. Then you just leave me so vulnerable, you don't give me anything to shield myself with." You laugh once, clear and ringing. "I feel so naked."

"I never meant to hurt you," she whispers, trying to salvage your friendship, but you are just finished. You have nothing. Literally you have nothing.

"It's fine," you're lying, and you both know it. "I just, maybe, I don't know, maybe I was too quick to come to a decision."

"Beca-"

"No, Chloe, I can't right now, okay?" She backs away from you thankfully and you feel like you can breathe again. You shut yourself into your room and curl up. There's that instinct again. You can feel it in your tense muscles, and it echoes everywhere. _Run. Run. Run._

* * *

**Chloe's POV**

Chloe Beale doesn't lie. She doesn't believe in it. So she can't lie to herself and say she doesn't feel anything for Beca. The moment she sees the stormy eyes, dark hair, darker expression, ear spikes and defensive posture, she knows she's a goner. It starts as a passing fancy, but Chloe accosts her in the showers, convinces her to join the Bellas, and from that moment on it's a true infatuation. It's a harmless one, though, because it's not hard to see that Jesse has the same look in his eyes. As long as Beca is with someone else, Chloe can control herself, can pretend to be the person she desperately wants to be.

Things go south the next year, Aubrey leaves for New York taking a piece of Chloe with her, and she decides to stay at Barden for graduate school. Surprisingly, the Bellas lose at Regionals. They lose so badly that even Chloe cringes in the audience. For someone who considers herself quite adept at predicting future outcomes, she doesn't quite foresee Beca's breakdown. The brunette begins to push everything and everyone away, except for her, and it should be obvious that it's a bad idea, but Chloe loses all sense of logic when she's around Beca. Instead of keeping her distance, she tries to reach past the other girl's walls and comfort her and try to revive her.

It shouldn't come as a surprise then, when Chloe comes home one day from shopping to see a tipsy and angry Jesse hissing things at a forlorn and possibly regretful Beca. The situation is obvious, and Chloe knows what this is leading to and she steadies herself. Except the part where the brunette denies being in love with her takes a turn for the unexpected when she does admit it. Totally caught off guard, Chloe heart hammers and there's a moment where she just wants to kiss Beca, but she knows she can't. She's not the girl that falls for another girl, and certainly not Beca who is closed off, sarcastic, and biting. Chloe is a Princess, and one day a Prince with a bright smile who is open and honest and earnest in everything will sweep her off her feet. She can do no less than that.

Truly, Chloe's a coward. For all her bravado and confidence, all that's underneath is a girl who feels less than a quarter as brave without someone like Aubrey standing in front, protecting her. So, she apologizes, she wants to tell Beca everything because Chloe Beale doesn't lie, but those words refuse to form in her mouth, and stick to her tongue.

_I love you, too. But I'm too afraid. I'm afraid of the looks, the judgment, the disappointment. I want to feel safe, Beca. But I love you so much._

Chloe resolves to tell her the next day, everything, because she can't live with the hurt she's caused. But it really shouldn't come as a surprise the next morning, when Chloe walks into the kitchen and finds a note, but no trace of Beca.

_I can't do this, Chloe._

_~ B_

That's it. No goodbye, no apologies, no pleading, nothing.

But really, she convinces herself, maybe it's fate, that it wasn't meant to be. It's better this way. Easier, even.

* * *

**Beca's POV**

Really, it's been almost three years and you should be over everything by now. You're the most popular DJ at an up and coming club in L.A. and people compliment you on your talent, something you never expected. The pay isn't amazing, but it's enough for you to get by without needing your second job as a waitress anymore. You've gone through a list of boyfriends and girlfriends, finally settling on the one you have now. Clark is tall and handsome, dark hair and dim eyes, physically he is on the other side of the spectrum from Chloe, and personality wise he is more like you than anyone you've ever met. Yet, it's Chloe's name that thrums in your veins. When you work and mix the music together seamlessly, there's a rush of adrenaline and the world fades away, but even in that utopia of perfection, you imagine your fingers running through red curls, and clear blue eyes staring back at yours.

You've kept in regular contact with Stacie, Cynthia Rose, and Fat Amy, and occasionally Jesse. So when Jesse and Fat Amy urge you to go back to Barden to attend their graduation, you tell yourself you're only going to see your friends, you're not going to chance for a glimpse of a certain redhead. Of course, you've always been good at lying to yourself, but this time not even you can deny the obvious self-deception.

"I'm so glad you came," Jesse wraps you into a friendly hug with a big grin, and you wonder how you've managed to stay friends with him. "I kind of didn't expect you to show up."

"Yeah well, I'm glad I'm here too," the lie rolls off your tongue easily and it's worth it when his eyes light up.

"Beca Mitchell!" You whirl around only to be bombarded by Cynthia Rose and Stacie who embrace you tightly, and despite it all, you find yourself laughing. "Girl, it's been too long!"

"It has," you say, and you truly mean it now. They fill you in on everything that's been going on since you left, and you share tidbits of your life in L.A.

"Beca?"

Her voice jolts you like a jab in the stomach, and you turn to her slowly, forcing your face to relax into a smile of sorts. Everything's just as you remember, but her hair is a light blonde color now. As always, you can't read her expression, and the look in her eyes is foreign.

"Hey C," you greet as casually as you can manage and you even do an idiotic half-wave. Your arms sort of open in a shrugging gesture, but she surges forward and wraps you in a tight embrace that was the last thing you were expecting. The moment her warmth envelops you, you totally lose all composure, and you bury your face into her neck. It's really not fair that she can do this to you after so long, but as her hands flutter along your back, you lose your resentment.

"What are you doing here?" Chloe pulls back with a beam and everything has a familiarity which kind of makes you want to sob. It's like nothing has changed, but you know it has.

"Just here to see my aca-babies graduate," you joke, and the two of you fall back into the steps so easily. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

"You never call, or text back," the former-redhead accuses, but it's not with venom.

"Yeah, sorry, I'll be better on that, I promise."

"We both know you won't, so don't make me fly out to L.A. to find you," Chloe teases, but you're surprised she can see through your lies still. Part of you wants to bite back and ask her why she never went to L.A. to find you, then.

"Alright, I'll definitely text you back," you make a show of pulling out your phone and waving it. She slaps your hand, playfully reprimanding you, and all you can do is stare at her eyes and fall and fall and fall. "You're blonde now."

"I wanted to see if I'd have more fun this way," she giggles and her hand remains on your arm all throughout the graduation ceremony.

* * *

The graduation goes swimmingly, but all you want is a cigarette or some booze to take the edge off that you feel. You're due back home in four days, so you just end up hanging out with your friends. Jesse's expression tells you all you need to know, that he's still enamored with you, about as much as you are with Chloe. Stacie hasn't changed at all, she grabs herself inappropriately in public and flirts shamelessly with anyone who passes. Fortunately, Cynthia Rose has changed and she's given up gambling for good (so she says), and Fat Amy is wildly awkward and hilarious as ever. The one who has changed the most is probably Chloe, who is insanely quiet (not in the scary serial killer way like Lilly), and barely says anything, but sits through everything with a small smile.

The six of you, Stacie, Fat Amy, Cynthia Rose, Jesse, Chloe and you, head out to a bar to celebrate and get smashingly drunk. Jesse and Fat Amy are lightweights, no surprise there really, and Cynthia and Stacie decide to help them home, leaving you with the object of your obsession. It's a heavy silence that lies between the two of you as you drink some vodka with Coke.

"Where are you staying?"

"With Jesse." Although you shouldn't feel guilty for saying that, you do. "Just, you know, as friends."

She looks bemused, though you don't know why. You want to ask her why, but honestly, you don't think you really want to know.

"Well he's kind of gone, you know," she gestures towards the door where he departed an hour or so ago.

_Damn._ "Oh, I'll just shack up in some hotel, it's cool," you wave it off, nearly knocking over your glass.

"I don't think I trust you to check yourself into a hotel at this stage," says the surprisingly sober Chloe. "Come stay with me, it's closer."

It's bad idea. So obviously a bad idea. You have no idea why you're leaning on Chloe walking back to her apartment, because it's a bad idea.

"DJ-ing at some new club, it's getting lots of attention though." You're also not sure why you're spilling everything about your life in L.A. to her right now. "Some famous celebrity I'd never heard of showed up one night."

"That's good."

"Yes, it is," as you stumble. "Dating some guy, he's really tall." Oh god, you don't even know what's coming out of your mouth anymore. "He's a drummer of a sort of popular band." You're not sure why you're divesting this information to Chloe of all people, or why you're divesting it to anyone at all.

"What's his name?" She doesn't seem very interested, it's kind of like she's just trying to get the conversation done with and get you back to her place in one piece.

"I think it's Clark," you laugh loudly, and then cringe. "You'd like him, I think."

"What's he like?"

"Well he's like a male me," you're starting to sober up a little bit with the warm outside air caressing your face, and you're not sure how much more you can say without pulling an Aubrey. "You know, has a lot of walls and doesn't talk about his feelings."

"Well if he's as great as you are, I'm sure I would like him," her arm is wrapped around your waist as she fumbles to open the front door of the apartment building. You swallow hard when her breath tickles the shell of your ear.

"He's not as great as you." You could blame it on being drunk, but you're not even feeling that buzzed anymore. It's like her hands, hot against your back have woken you up. "No one is."

"Beca, I-"

"No, wait," you press a hand to her bicep. "Let me finish, 'cause the alcohol's wearing off and I'll lose my nerve after that." She looks at you, still unreadable. "Can you just tell me, how I can forget you? Please, I'll do anything. I've tried so hard, but I'm dating some guy I don't even know very well, I've tried being alone and I've tried everything. Please."

It looks like she's about to say something, but you don't want to hear it after all. Swiftly, you cover her lips with your own and it's everything you've ever wanted and you can feel it everywhere. Her hand comes up to cup your cheek and she's kissing you back in earnest. But the spell is broken just as quickly.

"I have a boyfriend too." Your movements still and really you can feel something cracking inside.

"And?"

"I love him, Beca," she whispers, her face is still perfect, her eyes are still penetrating. But those words change everything for you.

"I'm such an idiot," you laugh and back away from her, clutching the wall vainly. "Why should three years change anything?" Chloe's hand is reaching out towards you, but you shake your head. "No, I was right to leave. Everything about this hurts, okay? People tell me all my life that I have to take a chance, take a risk and love or I'll die a lonely bitter crone. Yet I take the chance, and it's really worse."

Chloe's lips are on yours again and she's pushing you against the wall with more force than you'd ever given her credit for. You grasp her upper arm, feeling the firm muscles shifting underneath as she holds you captive there.

"Do you love me?"

There's no reply, as she rests her forehead against yours, her breath ghosting over your mouth. You want to hear her deny it though, to hear her rejection, so you can finally get over her.

"I love Jake," she finally says. You look into her eyes, looking for a trace of deception, or regret, anything really. But you don't know what she's feeling, hell, you're not even sure what you're feeling right now.

"I don't think we should do this," the words are bitter in your mouth. "I should stay at a hotel."

"Okay," she doesn't push, and for that you're thankful.

But for some reason, you do, "Last chance, C. Jake or me."

She doesn't answer, just keeps walking back to her apartment door.

"You'll miss me when I'm gone!" The words slip out of your mouth before you really think about it. Jesus, you must have watched too many movies (Jesse-recommended of course) if you're resorting to such dramatic and pretentious lines.

Chloe does stop in her tracks then, but thankfully does not look at you incredulously. In fact she doesn't look back at all. There's a long silence before she replies in a soft whisper, "I will, actually."

But you so don't need this right now, so you tear out of the building running, noting that your tears are flying off your face. You don't turn back, all you can think about is getting out of here.

* * *

You're back in L.A. the next morning, not bothering to stay the rest of the four days. The first thing you do when get back home is to break up with Clark who, in his defense, isn't too fazed by it, and he kisses your forehead.

"I have no idea what's going on through your mind, I can never read you," he says, his voice quiet and muted. You two never talk again afterwards, although you see him performing occasionally.

You are not that girl, you tell yourself. The one who pines after someone who clearly has no interest in her; the one who sits in her car for hours crying to Adele. Yet here you are, watching reruns of Gilmore Girls as Titanium plays endlessly on repeat. Who would've thought Beca Mitchell would be love's bitch?

* * *

**Chloe's POV**

It really is no surprise that Beca's gone by the next morning, this time without even a note or text or word to anyone else. So life goes on, and Chloe can't get the brunette out of her head (she hasn't been able to for the past three years), but she pretends everything is alright. Jake notices, of course, because she wears her heart on her sleeve really, everything is out in the open, but he doesn't press it.

In the end, it's Aubrey who tries to change the game.

"Hey aca-bitch." They've kept in touch ever since she moved, and their dynamic hasn't changed much. Aubrey calls when she's stressing and freaking the fuck out, and Chloe's soothing words and humming calm her down enough to handle it.

"Hey, Aubrey."

"What's wrong?" And Aubrey knows her like the back of her own hand.

"How did-"

"Puh-lease, I can tell by your voice, don't even."

Chloe stumbles for words, in a way that she rarely does, "How do I know Jake is the one?"

"I don't think that's the question you want to ask me," Aubrey laughs. "You're so transparent, dear."

It's frustrating to be so easy to read sometimes, because she can't have secrets, she can't lie, she can't hide anything. Instead of withdrawing like Beca, Chloe has to lay it out all there, because she doesn't have a choice in the matter.

"She kissed me." After a few moments, Chloe's afraid that maybe Aubrey has disconnected, because she knows she won't be able to admit it again. "Aubrey?"

"Did you kiss her back?"

"Yes."

"I'm your best friend, Chloe," she hears the sigh in the blonde's voice. "And I don't even like Mitchell. Remember that as I tell you that you're being unfair to her. You're leading her on, either dump Jake and run after her, or just stop."

"I'm not in love with Jake," Chloe barely manages to choke it out with a sob.

"Then don't lead him on either. Chloe, choose who you'll be the happiest with," her best friend's voice gets a little softer.

"I'm scared, Aubrey."

"I know, honey. But if you let fear dominate your life, you'll never be happy."

* * *

When Chloe was a little girl of five or six, her parents used to tell her fairytales; they told the traditional ones, of course, Cinderella, Beauty and the Beast, and Snow White, but they also told ones starring her. Her mother would weave stories out of nowhere about a beautiful princess with flowing red hair and shining blue eyes who was brave and would go out on wondrous adventures where she would meet a handsome prince who would make all her dreams come true. The only thing Chloe believed in more than Santa, was that she would indeed meet this perfect man someday.

Even after her mother died a few years later, she still held onto her childhood stories even if her father never talked about them anymore. Her father never remarried, he couldn't bear to, but he raised her as best as he could. At her high school graduation, her father had embraced her and told her, "It's been tough without her. Even if she doesn't live, her imagination will." He looks at her with a solemn kiss to her forehead. "You'll find your prince and your happy ending." Never has she wanted that fantasy future more than that moment, if not for herself, but for her father and the memory of her mother.

So when Jake proposes to her the following month, she says yes. As he slips a beautiful intricate diamond ring on her finger, she feels her heart breaking in the worst way. When he kisses her, she cries silently against his lips.

"What's wrong?" There's genuine concern and worry in his perfect brown eyes.

"I'm just so happy," she says.

Chloe Beale is not a liar. But here she is, lying to her fiancé and he's too in love with her to see through it.

She calls her father and tells him the news and he's so happy for her and excited that she almost forgets her own misery.

"This is wonderful news, Cee Cee," he gushes, and it vaguely sounds like he's crying. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

"Yes. Yes, I want this more than anything."

Chloe Beale is not a liar. She's an open book. Any passerby who wishes to know what she is thinking can see it on her face, or ask her for her true thoughts. There have been a few rare times where she tries to hide what she truly thinks, but everyone is able to see through her charade easily. She cannot lie.

"That's great, honey, I'm so happy for you. Mommy would be proud."

Everything is a sham.

* * *

**Beca's POV**

The club you're working at gets taken over by some larger chain of clubs, but they know not to make too many changes. They keep the manager, they keep you, and they keep the regular bouncers. Due to this change, your hours are more bearable and you're actually making decent money, more than you'd ever expected to make from your "hobby".

It's probably three or four months after this change that Jesse shows up at your doorstep unannounced with a big hug and smile.

"What are you doing here?"

"Got a job working on a score for a small indie movie," he laughs, and you're glad that dream of his has come true.

"Well, more importantly, how'd you find me?"

"Short female DJ, angry looking, earspikes, name of Beca," Jesse lists off his fingers, "Surprisingly not that many here in L.A." You shove him playfully before his expression turns a bit more serious. "You just up and disappeared on us after graduation. What happened?"

"I told you, had an emerg-"

"You lie so well," he seems a bit amazed at this. "Like nothing on your face betrays it. You don't look or feel guilty afterwards either."

"Then why do you think I'm lying?"

"Because I asked Chloe where you went, and she said your grandmother had fallen deathly ill, and we both know she's a terrible liar," Jesse chuckles. "And then I ask you, and you say your club demanded you return. And let's be honest, you'd tell them to shove off if it meant you could spend one more minute with Chloe."

"Well if you've got me all figured out, you must know why I left," you snark, regretting it immediately.

His eyes soften as he touches your cheek, "You're like me, Beca. We're both so hopeless with love. Wanting what we can't have."

"Yeah, masochism, you and me both." Sarcasm drips from your tone, but he nods in real agreement.

"Why don't you give me another chance?" His voice is hopeful and longing, and you know exactly what he's feeling.

"Because I don't love you, Jesse! Not like that. I can't do that to you. You deserve someone who is so in love with you that her heart beats wildly every time she just thinks of you."

"I don't care!" He bursts out so suddenly you recoil. "I don't care if you're in love with someone else. Imagine you were in my place, Beca. Wouldn't you want any part of Chloe that you could have?"

"No," you snort. "No I wouldn't. I'm not that desperate, Jesse. I want Chloe, but more than that, I want Chloe to want me. Do you get it?"

"And what if she never wants you back?"

"Then I'll forget about her," you snipe, getting up and making towards the door. Anticipating your move, Jesse stands up to block your exit. "Move," you say, clipped and stubborn.

"And how's that going for you, Beca? Are you over her?" The answer is clear, shockingly clear to both of you. So the unspoken question lingers in the air.

_What if you can't forget her?_

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it enough to make it down this far. Leave a review if it should so suit you. Second part will be up in a few days.**_  
_


	2. Part 2

**Beca's POV**

Jesse gets his own apartment which isn't too far from yours and the two of you start up your uneasy friendship once again. It's most likely a doomed friendship because he won't give up on you and you can't give up on Chloe.

_What if you can't forget her?_

What if you spend your whole life just waiting for Chloe, and it never happens? What if you are destined to be alone and empty forever? Can you handle that? As always, the answer lies with the music. In your down time you sit in your studio at home with clunky earphones over your head. You close your eyes and you imagine a place much simpler than this. The moment your fingers touch the knobs and switches on your controls, you know what to do.

* * *

**Chloe's POV**

It's set in stone, nothing will change Chloe's mind. She's going to marry Jake and that's final. Even Aubrey's shrieks over the phone assuring her that she's making a "huge mistake" do little to deter her. Jake will be the perfect husband, doting and kind, but not patronizing or submissive. This is the happy ending she's always wanted. So when Jake asks her for a date, she replies, "As soon as possible." Nothing will change her mind.

Even Aubrey coming to see her in person (which indicates that Aubrey thinks such drastic measures are necessary) doesn't change anything. The blonde is disgustingly nice to Jake, dripping with such a fakeness it makes Chloe want to puke. It's not hard to see that Aubrey's here to drill Chloe about the marriage, but she really doesn't want to have that conversation.

However, the moment they're in private, the blonde pounces on her, "Chloe Beale, are you seriously getting married to someone you don't love?"

"Don't see you, Aubrey, I can't be with Beca!" She's not sure what's so hard to understand about it.

"Why not, damnit?"

"Because she doesn't make me a better person. I've become someone I don't even know anymore because of her. I- I lie, and cheat on my boyfriend, and deceive people that I love."

Aubrey grips her wrists hard and shakes her, "Don't you understand, you stupid girl? You're not doing those things because of Beca. Everything you've done is because you refuse to let yourself be with her. You can't blame her for your own actions."

"I know," Chloe breathes shakily. "I'm blaming Beca, because I don't want to take responsibility. _I know_."

"Then what's the real reason you're marrying Jake?"

There's a long silence as Chloe struggles for an answer. "Maybe I'm afraid that even after we're together, that I'll mess something up and she'll run away anyway. I don't know, I just can't. See with Jake everything's certain and safe. Do you understand?"

"It's your choice in the end, Chloe," Aubrey's tone is flinty and her expression hard. "If you won't regret it, go ahead."

"I'm marrying Jake." It's final.

* * *

Chloe is offered a job as an aid at a prestigious private school in Atlanta where she'll have the chance to work with kids who have mental and physical "disabilities" (she's not sure why the principal puts quotation marks around that word). She accepts after much debate and she officially moves in with Jake who lives about ten minutes away from the school.

School's out for winter break, and she dreads the long vacation she has ahead of her. Idleness breeds discontent. So she focuses on doing household chores such as sweeping and mopping (things that she finds herself quite adept at). As she dances to the radio, Chloe tries to find something else in her spotless kitchen to keep her busy.

_Can we pretend that airplanes  
In the night sky  
Are like shooting stars?  
I could really use a wish right now_

It's a familiar song, and she finds herself singing along softly. But it's been a long time since she last sang, and she can feel how rusty she's become. Suddenly, the song changes and morphs into another song that she recognizes.

_I won't run, I won't fly  
I will never make it by  
Without you, without you_

For some reason, she just knows. Maybe it's because it's David Guetta, or maybe it's the seamless flow of the two songs, but she's never been so sure of anything in her life. It's a mix by Beca. As a third song joins the mix, Chloe shuts the radio off immediately. _Titanium. _The silence in the room is overwhelming, only punctuated by her shaky breaths that sound more like deep gasps than anything else.

_Why are you everywhere?_ Her hands grab onto the small plastic radio and she yells, loud and piercing, her vision blurring. Vaguely she hears a crash, and as her sight slowly comes back, the radio is in pieces on the ground and there's a sizable dent in the wall.

"Chloe?" There's panic in his voice as she feels strong arms coiling around her waist, pulling her to her feet. "Chloe!"

She's realizes with a shock that she's crying, her make up running. "I'm okay."

Jake's fingers run through her hair gently as he examines her expression, "Why won't you tell me what's wrong?"

It figures that he can believe she's in love with him, but she can't convince him that she's alright. "Can we move the wedding to the end of next year?"

"Of course," his arms close around her comfortingly, and she snuggles closer to his warmth. "Anything for you. Is that what you're stressing about?"

"Yes," Chloe breathes shallowly. "I just want it to be perfect."

"It will be," Jake assures her with a tender kiss to her temple, "It already is."

Everything's perfect. The more she says it, the less true it feels.

* * *

It wasn't just fate that caused Chloe to hear Beca's mix on the radio. Ends up her mash-up of Airplanes, Without You, and Titanium (unofficially referred to as Titanium Airplanes soaring Without You) rockets to the top of the charts and gains more and more radio plays. So it's not just Chloe that's hearing the song, it's everyone in the United States and Canada (and if she's heard correctly, the majority of Britain and Australia as well).

It might be fate, however, when Chloe loses the remote to the TV while an interview with Beca Mitchell airs.

"So Ms. Mitchell, how do you feel?"

"Not bad," the brunette drawls, reclining against the blue sofa that she and the interviewer are sitting on. At the sound of her voice, Chloe's heart twinges a little. "Can't say that having a hit song doesn't feel good."

As Chloe upturns things from the coffee table, searching for the remote, the interviewer laughs with Beca, but adds on a more serious note, "But it's just such a genius mix."

"Thank you."

"Here's what one music critic had to say about your mash-up: 'Ms. Mitchell has weaved a masterpiece together with such careful attention to detail that the result is breathtakingly flawless. She has an uncanny ability to match beats and melody, but more importantly, she ties together the lyrics to create a heartbreaking story of yearning."

Beca has the decency to blush, and even though she's on TV, Chloe can tell the girl is genuinely embarrassed and flattered. "Wow, that's just…I'm so honored."

"Why don't you tell me the story behind this mash-up?"

"There's not really a story," the brunette smirks, the tense motion betraying her lie, but the interviewer persists because it's her job, not because she can tell there's a story. Chloe sits back, her search for the remote fruitless, and while her brain tells her to leave, her heart tells her to stay and watch. Her eyes greedily drink in the sight of Beca sitting at ease.

"I find that hard to believe though! You can really feel the emotion, honest and clear."

The DJ looks down at the ground for a second before acquiescing, "Well, the song is obviously about the emotions you feel when you fall for someone. _Without You _is used as a base and is almost constantly heard throughout the song. It signifies the underlying and continued longing, but more than that it describes the emptiness you feel when you can't be with that person. It's saying, 'I'm nothing without you.' The first thing we hear is _Airplanes_ though, and it's about wanting to go back to when things were easier. Shouldn't love be easy? Well obviously, no."

The interviewer seems to find that hilarious and chuckles, "We all wish it was though."

"Precisely, so _Airplanes _is really saying, 'If I could have one wish, I would use it to make things right between us.' But, what really makes the mash-up is _Titanium_, because the other two songs combined make a mix that conveys need, but with the third song you get a sense of the real conflict. In context of the mash-up, _Titanium _represents the fear, the vulnerability of love. What it says is, 'You can't hurt me, don't even try. I am made of titanium.' But when you mix these three things together, _Titanium's _meaning changes, it says it is invulnerable, but it truly means, 'Please don't hurt me.'" Beca's cheeks are flushed with a tint of pink, both from excitement and a bit of embarrassment. "I feel like I've just gone on this irrelevant tangent. This is seriously going on TV?"

However, the interviewer seems truly in awe though of her words, "No, it was a very insightful look into your mind. Was a very good explanation. So is there a special someone this song is about?"

"Possibly," Beca gives a purposefully mysterious smile.

"Well I see you'll be tight-lipped about this, I won't pry, dear. So, why do you think your song has gained so much popularity? Well-deserved popularity, of course."

"I guess it's just relatable, you know, everyone knows the fear that comes with wanting something so much that you forget everything else," Beca gestures with her hands as if they'll help her explain. "But I think it ends on a positive note. In the end, when the singer, whoever he or she may be, is finally willing to take the leap of faith to just love, well they truly are made of titanium then."

By the end of the interview, Chloe is shaking violently from head to toe, her search for the remote begins again as the mash-up plays on TV. When it's evident that she's not going to find it, she can feel herself losing a grip on reality again.

The idea that the song might be about someone else makes her jealous in a way that she cannot fathom. Rationally, she knows it's about her, and it's for her and no one else. But right now, her life is on a perfect track for the perfect future with the perfect husband, and with the song playing in the background, it has never felt less real. The only coherent thought she can form is that she needs to get Beca out of her mind.

When the cloud lifts, she's swaying dizzily grasping something sharp in both hands. The infernal song has stopped playing, but the television's screen is shattered and the cords connecting it have been ripped and torn. Chloe's eyes stray down to her hands and sees red, literal red stained on shards of glass that she's clutching desperately. Her brain can hazily connect the dots, her furious assault on the TV, but she sits in shock in front of the broken machinery.

An unknown amount of time passes as she sits staring at the wall, her eyes dull and lifeless. The only thing that breaks her reverie is a sharp cry from Jake as he arrives home from work. "Baby, please tell me what's wrong!" His hands are gingerly trying to stem the bleeding from her wounds. "What's wrong?" He's so desperate there are tears rolling freely down his face. Everything feels so detached as she looks into his eyes.

"I slipped."

* * *

**Beca's POV**

The fame unexpectedly sweeps you on an amazing journey full of screaming fans, invasive reporters, and a chance in the spotlight. You really hate it most of the time, but when you receive letters from fans thanking you for expressing all the things that they feel, you don't feel so alone, and that makes it worth it. However, after awhile going around giving interviews, talking to fans, collaborating with other artists, it's tired you out quickly. It gets to you in a way it shouldn't, and you just feel so empty at the end of the day. So you withdraw into a more recluse life, taking an unofficial hiatus.

You've relocated to a bigger, more expensive, and more extravagant apartment, which really just makes you feel ten times lonelier than before. Although you occasionally talk to Jesse, you've fallen completely out of contact with Stacie and Cynthia Rose. Fat Amy, on the other hand, has gained a sort of fame of her own as a stand-up comedian. You've seen her at a few parties and the two of you exchange pleasantries, but that's the extent of your connection. Facebook friends aside, you really have no friends that you talk to on any sort of regular basis.

It's a complete and utter surprise when you get a letter from the president of some big-shot technology company. You don't know what to expect, and you completely miss the name of the company in big slanted letters.

_Ms. Mitchell,_

_It is incredibly difficult to get ahold of you. However, I have a matter of grave importance for your ears only. My phone number is attached to the back of this letter._

_Aubrey Posen  
President of Posen Technologies_

_P.S. Don't even think about not calling me. I'm doing this for C._

You're not even sure how long it's been since you've last seen Aubrey. Is it five or six years? Part of you is very resistant against the idea of calling her, but the letter C burns into your mind and it's all you can think about for the better part of three days.

"Hello?" Your hands are shaking.

"_Aubrey Posen speaking._"

"Hey, um, it's Beca," you curse yourself for sounding so awkward even after all this time. There's a long silence.

"_What the hell took you so long to call me?_"

"I'm calling now, aren't I?"

"_I'm in L.A. for four more hours. Come meet me at the Hilton on Twenty-third and Broadway._"

"Why should I?" Damnit, really, you're twenty-four, you shouldn't be sounding so petulant.

"_Like I said, for C._"

"Is she there with you?"

"_No._"

"I don't have time for games, Aubrey." When you sigh, you swear you sound fifty.

"_She's getting married._"

"What?" But the click followed by the tone signifies the end of your conversation. "Shit," you swear out loud. It's not worth it. You've buried Chloe inside underneath your mash-up and layers and layers of defenses.

You're okay with her marrying someone else.

_Damnit._ "Carl?" You call your driver. "Hilton, Twenty-third and Broadway. Can you take me?"

"So," you begin before you even take a seat. For some stupid reason, Aubrey's decided to meet you in this huge conference room that seems to dwarf you even more. Why she thinks she needs such a big place for just the two of you is something beyond you. "What do you want?"

"Chloe's getting married."

"Yes, I heard," you snap in annoyance. "Hence my actually coming here."

"To a guy she doesn't love."

"What do you want me to do about that?"

Aubrey looks at you unflinchingly, "Drop the fucking act, Mitchell. Don't act like it doesn't hurt every single day. That mash-up that's made you a big shot is drenching with Chloe's name."

"Not a good enough reason to use the word drenching," you snark and you're on your feet on your way out.

"You do this over and over," she shouts at your retreating form. Now you understand why she's chosen such a big fucking room. It's so it takes you longer to get away from her. "You run and run and run. You know she's in love with you, right?"

That stops you. "She's not."

"You're so blind, ugh!" Aubrey stands, waving her hands in frustration. "Chloe is the easiest person to read, and yet even with all the signs pointing to the obvious conclusion, you still manage to miss it."

"Did she tell you she l-loves me?" For some reason your tongue trips all over that word.

"She didn't have to," the blonde says seriously, "I could see it all in her eyes."

But you've seen those eyes of hers. Sparkling blue and completely unreadable. You laugh and continue walking away.

"You know, you go on TV and say all this stuff about how you end on a positive note. That maybe the singer realizes in the end that in taking a chance, they become invincible. But you're a coward, Mitchell."

That makes you grit your teeth, and you whirl around to stomp back to her, ignoring the glint of triumph in her eyes, "Really, Aubrey? Really? You think that I haven't tried so hard? You don't think I've put myself out there, dropping my heart in hopes that she'll reach out and catch it?"

"You're not afraid to tell her you love her, I'll give you that. But you are so insanely afraid of what happens after that you run away. You don't give her a chance to tell you anything." There's a clever and witty response to that, but it escapes you. Aubrey plows on, "And you're both so scared to be happy and I have no idea why. Chloe knows she's not in love with Jake, but she's marrying him because she thinks it's safe. You know what doesn't make her feel safe? You fucking running away!"

"How do you know she wants me, then? Besides the look in her eyes, give me something so that _I_ can feel safe!"

The blonde stands, her back straight and posture perfect. "You of all people taught me, if you don't succeed the first time, change your attitude and try again."

"So no guarantee really," this whole conversation is leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.

"Is love about guarantees, Beca? Or is it about something else?" Your mind flies to Titanium and your famous interview. "And would I have bothered if I wasn't sure?"

* * *

**Chloe's POV**

Chloe can see the worry mounting in Jake's eyes and tense posture, and she's given him good reason to be this way, but she thinks she's getting better. The doctors stitching her hands had recommended them to a psychiatrist who she politely declined to see. Jake's insistence nearly made her reconsider, but in the end she tells him that she's learning how to cope. And she is.

It's a few months after that they finally decide a date for the wedding, February 24th, as good a day as any, she thinks. The many preparations for the wedding keep her occupied and for the first time in a long while, Chloe feels something akin to content. It figures that the feeling isn't supposed to last.

Jake gets called away to a three day conference in Flagstaff, Arizona, and she has to finalize the wedding invitations. So when the buzzer of the apartment rings on a Saturday afternoon, Chloe gets someone she doesn't expect.

"Hello?"

"Hi."

The single word sends a tingling racing down her back. "Who is this?" But she knows who it is. Even through the crackling of the intercom, even after how long it's been, the voice on the other side is unmistakable.

"It's Beca."

"Uhm, come on up," Chloe says, hoping her voice doesn't betray the frazzling emotions she feels. "Oh my God."

She can hear the clunking of Beca's combat boots (the ones she wore in the interview) before she sees them. When the brunette turns the corner and sees her, Chloe can't breathe. It's like nothing's changed, the dark makeup, the darker look, the slight smirk, everything is just as she's remembered. Beca stands in the doorway awkwardly with her hands in her jean pockets.

"Come in," somehow her voice manages to keep a chirpy quality, like nothing is wrong. "Let me give you a tour!" The two women fall into their previous dynamic, Beca withdrawn and reserved, Chloe outgoing and eager to invade her space. "This is the kitchen," she gestures, "And that's the-"

"You've kept your hair blonde," Beca notes quietly, her fingers curling around a strand. "I miss it ginger."

"I've been debating letting it fade back to red," Chloe replies, her hand instinctively coming up to cradle the other woman's hand.

"That's your bedroom?"

"Yes."

"What would you think if I said I really wanted to fuck you in the bed you share with Jake?"

Chloe's face flushes red and she opens and closes her mouth a few times, no answer coming out. "Well…I…."

Beca seems to be searching her face for an answer. "You know I just said that to see your reaction, right?"

"And what was my reaction?" Two can play a game right? Only, Chloe's not sure this is just a game.

"I'm stuck between speechless or appalled," Beca shrugs. "I can never read you."

It figures, the only people who can't read her are the ones who she can never seem to tell the whole truth to. "Can't I be speechless and appalled?"

"Are you flirting with me?"

"Yes," Chloe says, and she hasn't felt this alive in many years. It dies quickly though, "But maybe I shouldn't be."

"You're happy with Jake?"

"Sometimes."

"Why are you marrying him then?" Beca's shoulders are incredibly tense, like it's taking all of her energy to not walk away.

"Because I love him," the answer is automatic, coming to Chloe's lips without much thought.

"But are you in love with him?" The conversation is punctuated by long silences in between the questions and answers. For the first time, Chloe allows her unease and doubt to show clearly. "Are you?" She really does try to summon something up, but there's nothing. "Well, I'm in love with you, Chloe Beale." When Beca realizes Chloe still isn't able to say anything, she continues, "First met you when I was 18, took me about a year to finally clue in and see that maybe Jesse wasn't what I wanted. You know it scared me completely, just how much I wanted to be with you. So, I ran when I thought you might not feel the same. For the longest time I thought that was the problem, that you didn't love me back and I would have this unrequited crush forever." Beca's fingers trail delicately along her jaw, "But now I realize, that my fear wasn't of rejection. It's just me, afraid of taking a chance and maybe being happy."

As the brunette's fingers trace her lips, Chloe finally finds her words, "You deserve someone better than me. I have done nothing but make the wrong choices all along. I've hurt you and Jake and myself. I'm not that good person I thought I was." She's pleading now, her hand clutching Beca's sleeve desperately.

"But I only want you, Chloe. I have wanted you for so long. Forever."

Chloe feels herself losing control again, but in a different way. Her knees buckle and Beca rushes to support her, as tears flow freely down Chloe's face. Her mind is surprisingly clear as Beca supports her and guides her to the bed where the two of them lie down. As she feels her mind drifting off into slumber, Beca's fingertips draw light pictures and fantasies across her skin.

The next morning, Chloe wakes up in the warmth of comforting arms, and upon realizing Beca has not left, she knows what she must do.

* * *

"Yello?"

"Hi Daddy, it's me," Chloe leans against the railing of the balcony, phone pressed to her ear, preparing herself.

"What's up, baby doll?"

"I can't marry Jake," it's the hardest thing she's ever had to say to her father, and yet when she does, something in her chest lifts and she feels like she can fly for one incredible moment.

"Why, what's happened?"

"I'm not in love with him," the truth weighs leaden in the air, "I love someone else."

"Are you sure?"

Chloe laughs bitterly, "It's the only thing I'm sure of anymore. I am in love with Beca Mitchell." There's a long pause, "Daddy, please, say something, anything."

"Chloe, baby," his voice is low, rough, and disappointed. It must be serious, because he's using her full first name, instead of a regular nickname. "It was never about the prince, it was always about the princess. About you. Your mom and I didn't want you to marry the perfect man, we just wanted you to have your happy ending."

"Thank you," she's saying through tears, "Thank you." After a pause, "What do I tell Jake?"

"Tell him everything."

* * *

"Here, at the airport, Chloe, really?" They're sitting in one of the private lounges, it's not that spacious and it's not really the ideal place, but she didn't want to wait another minute. "How could you do this to me?" Jake's never raised his voice, or lost his temper, not through all the insanity she's put him through. But this is his breaking point, and Chloe knows that it is well overdue. "You've led me on for so many years."

"I will never be able to make this up to you," her voice trembles and her gaze wavers as she backs away slowly. "I lied to you, I lied to everyone, including myself. It was incredibly selfish and unfair of me. You've put up with everything, my crazy, my highs and lows, and I want to be in love with you so much."

Jake's expression is torn between livid and heartbroken, "Chloe, I love you more than I have loved anything in this entire world. But I can't forgive you this."

"I'm so sorry, Jake." He removes his ring and places it on the table. "I love you, but not in the way I should."

"Please don't," he chokes out. "I don't want to hear anymore."

"I'm packing, I'll be gone by tonight," she informs him.

Jake gets up and gathers his bags, "You know where I'll be." Maybe a part of him thinks she might run after him saying it's all a mistake, but Chloe knows it's not. This is the first right thing she's done in many years.

On her way back to her apartment, Chloe passes Chattahoochee River and promptly tosses both of their rings into it.

* * *

When she arrives back, slamming the front door, she calls out, "Beca?" After looking around the apartment, there's no trace of the girl. Chloe's head spins wildly as she tries to make sense of things. This is definitely not how she had planned it, but things never go as planned when it comes to Beca.

* * *

**Beca's POV**

When you wake up, Chloe is missing from the apartment, and you think that maybe Aubrey's wrong. Even staying, you can't win her over, she's set on marrying Jake and there's nothing you can do to change her mind. As if on cue, your phone rings.

"Hello?"

"Don't you dare think about leaving, Mitchell," comes the unmistakable voice of Aubrey Posen.

"How the hell do you know- wait…how the hell do you have my number?"

"Really, I'm the President of one of the largest technological companies in the United States, you think it was difficult for me to get a simple phone number?"

"You're seriously freaking me out," you say as you nearly trip over a small stool in the bathroom.

"Listen to me," she dismisses your concerns, "Chloe can talk herself into doing anything, but she also can talk herself out of anything. She needs someone to snap her out of it sometimes. She needs you, right now."

"Okay, Aubrey," you figure your whole trip was just on a whim that Aubrey set in your mind, so if you're gonna do this, you should do it all the way. "You're one hell of a persistent wingman, you know?"

"You'll thank me one day."

There's nothing in the kitchen that you think you should touch, but you're starving, so you get your jacket and head out to get a bite. When you get back and open the door, you see Chloe faced towards the sofa.

"Hey, you didn't have food so I went out to get-"

She turns around with a look of pure relief as she bounds to the open door and wraps you in a too tight embrace. "You're still here."

"Of course," you laugh, a little surprised, "You thought I'd left?"

"I thought, maybe you realized you made a mistake."

"A mistake of coming here?" You ask, your hands smoothing across her shoulders. "It might be, but-"

"I'm a brave person," Chloe announces to you suddenly. "I will go bungee jumping, I will burst into your shower uninvited, I'll even tell Aubrey to come at me when she retches everywhere. But when it comes to love, I'm not that brave at all." You don't even know what she's trying to say. As hard as you tell yourself not to hope, your heart decides to do just that anyway. You know her next words will either make you or break you. "Take me with you to L.A."

"What?" Your breathe comes in short ragged staccatos, your heart jackknifing in your chest, not quite believing what she's just said.

"I've called off the wedding," as your fingers trace over her hands, noting that she's not wearing her ring anymore. "I told Jake, I told my dad, I gave my resignation letter to the school I was working at. Take me with you back to L.A., please."

"You did all that?" It's hard to believe that she's suddenly done all that, what with all the mixed signals you've gotten from her since day one. "Why?"

"Because I'm not in love with Jake. Because I'm done with being unhappy, I'm done with crying so much. I want to be happy," Chloe leans closer to you, her forehead resting against yours. "I'm in love with you, Beca. Ever since I saw you at the activities fair, ever since I sang Titanium with you in the shower, ever since you joined the Bellas, ever-"

You cut her off with a kiss that leaves a tingling around your lips. "L.A. it is, then."

* * *

_A year later_

Things aren't always easy being with Chloe. Sometimes you're still convinced she'll wake up one day and regret her decision to choose you over Jake, that maybe you've tricked her into thinking that she loves you.

Regardless, the two of you fall into a comfortable routine easily, you spend the weekdays DJ-ing at a club for celebrities, and Chloe (her hair faded back to ginger) takes up writing short stories for children. While she's not an immensely successful author, the cute occasional fan-mail from a little kid out there somewhere makes up for it. Honestly, you think Chloe prefers the anonymity since your fame is quite too much to handle anyway. When the two of you had first landed back in L.A. a year ago, somehow the paparazzi had caught wind of it and followed the two of you back to your apartment. The next day there were articles in gossip magazines speculating that the "mysterious blonde" accompanying you home was the "Titanium Airplanes soaring Without You girl". Frankly, you let them think whatever they want; she is the girl obviously, but they don't need to know that.

When things are going well with Chloe, you feel like you're on the top of the world, like nothing can touch you. It's a feeling that still frightens you, because when things go even a tiny bit wrong, it feels like the end of the world. You've never considered yourself a particularly emotional person, but the little things that she does cause such waves of emotion in you. In bed, when her fingers thrum against your spine, your eyes threaten to spill over with tears of love, and when you accidentally snipe at her after a long day, the scrunching of her face makes you instantly remorseful.

After a particularly stressful and trying day, Chloe ignores your bad mood and tries to cheer you up, only worsening your temper. You get your hoodie and leave the apartment, the door slamming shut on your way out. You don't plan on stopping for anyone or anything, but as you get halfway down the street-

"Wait, Beca!" You turn around, surprised she's come after you. As you prepare yourself for an ultimatum, a break up or something, she clasps your hands in her own, her fingers sliding to get a grip. You feel something cold slip between your digits and you look down to see a simple metal band. You look at it confused. "I know it's not always easy being with me. I can see it in your eyes sometimes, that desire to run, and it scares me more than anything. But I think the reason you run away from people is because you want to see who will actually think you're worth it, and chase after you."

"Holy shit," you get it now. "Are you proposing to me?"

"Yes," her tongue flicks out to wet her lips. "Yes, but it's not to ensure that you'll stay with me. It took me so long to figure things out, Beca. Too long. You kept running away and I should've known that I only had to run after you. I still have my doubts that you're the one, the one that I'll be with forever, but I love you. Only you. I've been so in love with you ever since I set my eyes on you. And even though I'm scared, it's alright because I'm-"

You cut her off, holding the ring up, finally understanding, "Titanium."

_Please don't hurt me._

She nods, relief that you've got it, "Yes."

"Yes," you say, nodding along with her. Her face breaks into a heartbreakingly beautiful smile as if she had expected you to say yes all along. "Yes."

_I won't._

* * *

**Chloe's POV**

Chloe Beale is not a liar. So she can't say that being with Beca isn't the scariest thing ever. But she can say that it is the most exhilarating, exciting and wonderful thing. And marrying Beca doesn't guarantee her happiness, she knows, but she still feels safe with her wife-to-be's hand over her own.

When they get married, in front of friends (Aubrey, and the rest of the Bellas) and family (her father stands in the crowd with such an expression of joy, it might surpass her own), she feels invincible. Even the mandatory bad ginger joke from Fat Amy ("I guess God decided he'd punished you enough by making you ginger that he decided to give you a happy ending.") barely dampens Chloe's mood. Jesse comes to congratulate the two women, and while she recognizes the look in his eyes, she knows she has nothing to worry about. Frankly, Jesse may never get over his love for Beca, but Chloe knows nothing can change that.

At the reception, their audience demands a dance between the two of them, so they head to the middle of the ballroom, shrouded in white and wait for the song. Surprisingly, Aubrey asks the band to stop playing for a moment, and the former Bellas (Stacie, Cynthia Rose, Fat Amy, Lilly, Jessica, Denise, and, Ashley) follow her onto the stage. With the first notes of Just the Way You Are, Beca laughs incredulously, both of them knowing where this is headed.

_Oh, her eyes, her eyes make the stars look like they're not shining.  
Her hair, her hair falls perfectly without her tryin.  
She's so beautiful. And I tell her everyday._

Chloe begins to sing with them as she twirls her wife around and around with a huge grin on her face. For her part, Beca doesn't seem too mortified, and even joins in with Just A Dream.

_Uh, Uh, I was thinkin' bout her, thinkin' bout me, thinkin' bout us, who we gonna be  
Opened my eyes, and it was only just a dream.  
It was only just a dream._

Their voices mix together flawlessly with the rest of the Bellas and it feels amazing.

"I'm glad it wasn't just a dream," Beca whispers into the redhead's ear. "Maybe it took us far longer than it should've, but still."

"Masochism," Chloe's voice is light and teasing. "You and me both. Refusing to be happy, but it's what we've wanted all along."

* * *

**Beca's POV**

"Speak for yourself," you reply jokingly. Then as you watch her twirl around, dressed in white with red curls flying everywhere, you think that maybe you are a masochist. Because she's so perfect, that watching her physically and emotionally hurts, but it finally hurts in a way that's so good. And you think, hurting like this isn't so bad after all.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you for the overwhelming response I got! It was literally amazing, and appreciated. Hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as the last, and leave a review if you're in the mood.**

**On another note, I'm on tumblr: amiphobic . tumblr . com, and if there's any interest, in the "FF Extras" section you can find the full lyrics of "Titanium Airplanes soaring Without You" and two "deleted" scenes that didn't manage to make it in the story. Thanks for sticking with me! If you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask me on Tumblr/FF.  
**


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